Dar. To kill him, Clitus: Look, he medi- | Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, tates. Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes. Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word. Vol. What says my lord? Bru. Why, this, Volumnius: The ghost of Cesar hath appear❜d to me Vol. Not so, my lord. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit: It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumníus, [gether; Thou know'st, that we two went to school toEven for that our love of old, I pray thee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it. Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum still. Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here. Bru. Farewell to you;-and you;—and you, Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. NIUS. I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato! Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you well, my lord. Bru. Farewell, good Strato.-Cesar, now be still: I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. Mes. My master's man.-Strato, where is thy master? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, For Brutus only overcame himself, Luc. So Brutus should be found.—I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true, Oct. All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them.* Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Stru. Ay, if Messala will prefert me to you. Oct. Do so, Messala. Mes. How died my master, Strato? Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it. Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them All the conspirators, save only he, [all: Did that they did in envy of great Cesar; And common good to all, made one of them. He, only, in a general honest thought, So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up, His life was gentle; and the elements And say to all the world, This was a man! Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.So, call the field to rest: and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day. [Ereunt. * Receive into my service. + Recommend. SCENE I-Alexandria.-A Room in CLEOPATRA'S Palace. Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO, Phil. Nay, but this dotage of our general's, O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, That o'er the files and musters of the war Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, The office and devotion of their view And is become the bellows, and the fan, Flourish. Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon❜d. Cleo. I'll set a bournt how far to be belov'd. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. Renounces. Enter an ATTENDANT. + Bound or limit. * Offends. On pain of punishment, the world to weet,* We stand up peerless. Cleo. Excellent Falsehood! Why did we marry Fulvia, and not love her?— Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra. Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours, Let's not confound+ the time with conference harsh: There's not a minute of our lives should stretch Without some pleasure now: What sport to night? Cleo. Hear the ambassadors. Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, The qualities of people. Come, my queen; Image: find me to marry me with Octavius Cesar, and companion me with my mistress. Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs. Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune Than that which is to approach. Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names: Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million. Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think, none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. Alex. We'll know all our fortunes. Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, tonight, shall be-drunk to bed. Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Char. Even as the overflowing Nilus presageth famine. Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particu lars. Sooth. I have said. Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? Iras. Not in my husband's nose. Alexas,-come, his fortune, his fortune.-0, Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis,+ I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuck. olded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly! Char. Amen. Alex. Lo, now! if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they'd do't. Eno. Hush! here comes Antony. Enter CLEOPATRA. Cleo. Saw you my lord? Cleo. Was he not here? Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the sudden [bus,A Roman thought hath struck him.-EnobarEno. Madam. Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's neral tongue; Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome : Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults [lice Enter ENOBARBUS. Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir? Ant. I must with haste from hence. We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women: if they suffer our departure, death's the word. Ant. I must be gone. Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: It were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great patra, catching but the least noise of this, dies cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleoinstantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think, there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. Eno. Alack, Sir, no; her passions are made cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and of nothing but the finest part of pure love: We tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacks can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. Ant. 'Would I had never seen her! Eno. O, Sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blessed withal, would have discredited your travel. Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Sir? Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Fulvia? Ant. Dead. sacrifice. Eno. Why, Sir, give the gods a thankful When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to With such full licence, as both truth and ma-man the tailors of the earth; comforting thereHave power to utter. O, then we bring forth in, that when old robes are worn out, there are weeds, When our quick windst lie still; and our ills told us, Is as our earing. Fare thee well a while. Mess. At your noble pleasure. [Exit. Ant. From Sicyon how the news? Speak there. 1 Att. The man from Sicyon.-Is there such a one? 2 Att. He stays upon your will. Ant. Let him appear,These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, Enter another MESSENGER. Or lose myself in dotage.-What are you? Her length of sickness, with what else more her on. members to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock the tears live in an onion, that should water brings forth a new petticoat: and, indeed, this sorrow. Ant. The business she hath broached in the Cannot endure my absence. [state, Eno. And the business you have broached here cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode. Ant. No more light answers. Let our offi cers Have notice what we purpose. I shall break breeding, [life, Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure, he does: I did not send you ;*-If you find him sad, You do not hold the method to enforce Cleo. What should I do, I do not? Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool the way to lose him. Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear. But here comes Antony. Cleo. I am sick, and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose, Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I shall fall; It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature Ant. Now, my dearest queen, Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me. Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. What says the married woman?-You may go; 'Would, she had never given you leave to come! Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here, I have no power upon you; hers you are. Ant. The gods best know, Cleo. O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, Ant. Cleopatra,— Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true, [gods, Though you in swearing shake the thronged Ant. Hear me, queen: The strong necessity of time commands en ; And that which most with you should safet my going, Is Fulvia's death. Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childishness:-Can Fulvia die? Cleo. O most false love! Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill The purposes I bear; which are, or cease That quickens Nilus' slime,|| I go from hence, Thy soldier, servant; making peace, or war, As thou affect'st. Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come; But let it be. I am quickly ill, and well; So Antony loves. Ant. My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which An honourable trial. Cleo. So Fulvia told me. [stands I pr'ythee turn aside, and weep for her; Ant. You'll heat my blood; no more, Ant. Now, by my sword,— Cleo. And target,-Still he mends; Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous mad-But this is not the best: Look, pr'ythee, Ant. How now, lady! How this Herculean Roman does become Ant. I'll leave you, lady. Cleo. Courteous lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: Ant. But that your royalty Cleo. "Tis sweating labour, Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou To bear such idleness so near the heart |